


Not Broken But Bent

by ThePathLessTrekked



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Actor!Jim, Happy Ending, M/M, Overdose, Singer!bones, mentions of child abuse, mentions of drug abuse, vignette fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-02
Updated: 2014-03-02
Packaged: 2018-01-14 06:52:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1256917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePathLessTrekked/pseuds/ThePathLessTrekked
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Small peeks into the lives of actor James T. Kirk and musician Leonard McCoy as they learn that being broken before doesn’t keep someone from loving you now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Not Broken but Bent

They met when Leonard had been working on a music video and James had been wandering around the studio after Chris Pike had told him to fuck off for a while and stop ruining takes. There were a few cameras focused on the musician as he sang the bluesy tune that had been released about three weeks before. James knew better than to get to close to the scene and stayed well behind the cameras but ventured close enough to listen to the gruff voice and upbeat guitar that McCoy was so well known for. Apparently it was quits for the day, the director called it and everyone started to scatter. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be playing a pretty boy with a daddy complex somewhere?” Kirk turned and raised an eyebrow. McCoy’s speaking voice was only slightly smoother than his singing voice. 

“Shouldn’t you be singing about heart break in the bottom of a bottle?” 

The musician gave Kirk a hard look before breaking into a lopsided smile. He held out his hand. “Len.”

“James.”  

——————————————————————————————-

“Hey! Len!” Leonard peered over his shoulder at the sound of his name. It wasn’t often that people recognized him on the street. He dressed like any other guy in jeans and a button up and without the stage make up for concerts and music videos his stubble looked more unkempt than edgy. People also normally didn’t call him Len unless they knew him personally.

So he was mildly surprised when it was someone who  _did_ get recognized on the streets that had called for his attention. 

“Hey!” James bounded up to him, a grin plastered across his face. “I wasn’t sure that was you for a second. You look different.” Len cocked an eyebrow.

“Different?” He gave a skeptical glance down at his clothing. Jeans and a dark blue button up. Nothing special. Last time he had seen the actor he had been wearing almost the same thing but more tailored and with buttons open half way down his chest instead of just the top two. 

“Yeah.” James looked him up and down. “Not bad different. Just more comfortable. More you I guess. How have you been?”

“Jesus, kid. Anyone ever tell you, you come on strong?” James laughed and shrugged, splaying his hands out in innocence. 

“Maybe once or twice.” Len snorted and nodded in assent, he had asked after all. 

“I’ve been doing fine, kid. How about you?” Kirk had barely gotten his mouth open when there was a flash. He faltered and sighed. 

“Dogged by paparazzi, apparently.” Another flash. “Sorry, man.”  The singer hesitated for half a moment before jerking his head pointedly to the left. 

“I know this place where they’re not allowed in. It’s quiet, no one will bug us there if you want to catch up.” 

The surprised smile on James face was worth almost getting run over twice as they crossed the maze of LA streets. 

The absolutely ridiculous three hour conversation they had over only one cup of coffee was more than worth whatever stupid thing the pap was going to post about them. Not that he’d tell the kid that. The idiot had a huge ego as it was. 

——————————————————————————————-

At some point the coffee convos had turned into a weekly thing. Kirk isn’t entirely sure when it happened. Maybe sometime between the conversation about the pros and cons of making your own corn bread and the one about how ludicrous people who didn’t like hockey were. By the time they hit books genres they were comfortable enough to make fun of each other. 

“Seriously, Len?” James frowned across the small coffee table. “Medical journals. Those aren’t even books. There are easier ways to find a picture of tits than looking at breast cancer studies.” Len was pretty sure it was a miracle his eyes hadn’t come out of his head when he rolled them. 

“I  _like_  medical journals. I wanted to be a doctor.” He took a sip of his coffee and tried to ignore the, admittedly, unnerving stare he was getting. Finally he snapped. “What?”

“What kind of doctor?” 

“A neurosurgeon.” 

“How the  _hell_  did you get from neurosurgery to singing?” Kirk was still staring at him. Len only shrugged.

“It just didn’t work out.” 

——————————————————————————————-

“Leo, I’m pregnant.” It wasn’t exactly what he wanted to hear at 18 years old. But there it was. 

“Leo! Say something!” He couldn’t, what was he supposed to say? He wasn’t scared, he wasn’t happy, he wasn’t angry. He was disappointed that it meant he wouldn’t be going to medical school. He was bitter that he wasn’t going to be able to get his feet under him before he had to raise a family. He was terrified of what his parents would say, not about getting his girlfriend pregnant, but about how he wasted his future. 

He didn’t think Jocelyn would appreciate him saying any of that. So instead he said: 

“When do you want to get married?” 

——————————————————————————————-

Leonard loved that baby the moment they put her in his arms. Forget medical school. He’d be a mechanic for the rest of his life if he got to hold this little girl every day.  He worked. A lot. He had to if he wanted to be able to feed them, keep a house over their head. He barely got to see Jocelyn or Joanna. 

That’s when he started writing. He needed someway to express the first time he’d ever truly been in love. He needed to be able to say more to this tiny person that was the epitome everything right in his life. So he gave her his words and his music. Even when he couldn’t give her his time. 

——————————————————————————————-

It was probably more obvious than he wanted to admit. He was never home, Jocelyn didn’t work so she could take care of Joanna. It was just as much a sacrifice for her as being a mechanic was for him. He had wanted to fix people, not cars. She had wanted to run businesses not households. 

She wanted a family that ate dinner together every night. She wanted a husband that didn’t marry her just because he knocked her up at 18. She wanted a spouse that loved her as much as he loved their child. 

Clay Tredwell could give that to her. 

He apparently gave her a lot of things Leo couldn’t. 

He just wished that Joanna’s future wasn’t one of those.

“It’s going to be better for her Leo.”

“I know.” 

“I’ll play the tapes for her every night. She’ll spend summers with you as soon as she’s old enough.”  He knew she wasn’t proud of what she had done, but it didn’t make it any easier. He didn’t want tapes and summers. He just wanted to be with his family. 

But he wasn’t that selfish. He never had been. 

——————————————————————————————-

He wonders if he should be surprised at how easily the bottle fits in his fist. He wonders if his life had always been heading in this direction. He wonders if he’ll ever feel like he can handle the world again. He wonders why a marriage he didn’t want in the first place wrecked him so thoroughly. 

Then he drinks so he doesn’t have to wonder anymore. 

——————————————————————————————-

Writing is easier when he’s drunk. He doesn’t have to be concerned about exposing too much of himself in a song. 

Singing is easier when he’s sober. He doesn’t have to worry about falling apart half way through the song. 

He’s in a dive with his guitar singing about his daughter when someone offers to help him make a demo. 

He has nothing to loose. 

——————————————————————————————-

“If you want this deal, you have to get sober.”  Hikaru Sulu was not an unreasonable man. He had a steady voice, a calm demeanor and a no-bullshit expectation of his clients. “I know you’ll be a hit.” He was leaning back in the plush chair behind his desk. The office was clean edges and soft browns. None of the modern stark contrast shit that Len had expected. 

“You have a fantastic sound, a great look for it and enough heart in your music that it won’t take long for people to start eating it up.” Len couldn’t help but thinking that pathetic wasn’t a great look for any kind of music. “But, I manage musicians, not drunks. If you want to work with me, and I’m not going to lie, I hope you do, you have to get your act together.”

This was the moment he had to decide. Stay a drunk who wouldn’t actually get to spend time around his daughter because her mother had common sense. Or try to make it in the music world and maybe make enough money to actually open up a college fund for her. 

“How do I start pulling it together?” He hoped it sounded as sincere as it was. Sulu gave a relieved smile. 

“Luckily, I’m here to help. Lets start with making a few calls to a therapist.” 

——————————————————————————————-

His first concert was a bigger rush than anything he had ever experienced. He wasn’t sure how he ended up here, he knew he wasn’t good enough for it. 

The crowd cheered wildly as he came out on stage. They knew his songs, they sang along and cheered his name. It was unreal. 

He was only 25 and he was playing to a crowd of 2000 people. 

Maybe he could get used to this. 

——————————————————————————————-

He still wasn’t used to it at 27 when played to crowds of ten to twenty thousand.

  
It kept feeling unreal. But God help him, he loved it.

——————————————————————————————-

“I don’t drink but thanks.” Len had been at the party for less than thirty minutes and he is already more than ready to go home. The server smiled politely at him and moved to the next guest. 

“Isn’t not drinking against some kind of southern law?” James was holding out a glass expectantly when Len turned to look at him. He gave him an unamused look. 

“Yeah, well, I’ve always been a rebel. I’m serious though. I don’t drink.” He nodded his head at the drink Kirk was still holding out. 

“Not even cranberry juice?” The glass was pushed into his hand. He sniffed it and sure enough it was only juice. He eyed the identical glass in James’ other hand. “I don’t drink either. I swear it’s safe, Bones.” 

“I should never have told you about that. People don’t call doctor’s sawbones anymore.” Jim laughed and Len couldn’t help but smile. He had a feeling he wouldn’t be getting rid of the nickname any sooner than he’d be getting rid of the man. 

——————————————————————————————-

“My daughter decided she’d rather spend the summer at camp than with me.” A coffee cup was balanced precariously on the edge of the table. Len focused on keeping it in place with his mind, avoiding eye contact with the man sitting across from him. James had stopped mid-sip. 

“You have a kid?” He set the cup back down. “How old is she?” 

“Nine.” 

“Don’t worry about it, Bones. She just doesn’t get what it means to spend time with her dad. She’ll figure it out soon.”  Len wasn’t so sure. Joanna hardly knew him, only spending summers together. She loved those summers, he knows she did, but he couldn’t help but feeling like she didn’t want to spend the summer with a stranger. It must have read on his face because James put a hand on his wrist. 

“Len, she’ll realize how much she misses you before long.”

He was so grateful when the kid was right. Joanna called him two weeks into camp, saying that she was having so much fun. After about ten minutes of telling him about everything, she was already making plans about what they could do next summer that she had done in camp this summer. 

——————————————————————————————-

“Hey, Bones we’re, uh. We’re friends right?” Leonard blinked blearily into the darkness, trying to make sense of the voice coming through his phone. 

“James?” He rubbed his face, pulling at his eyes with a groan. “Jim, why are you calling me at fuck thirty at night?” 

“I’ve just been thinking about it a lot, the character and all and I-I kind of need a friend.” There was a waver in the actor’s voice. He sounded a little unhinged. “Scotty is out of the country. Chris is in New York. I don’t know where Nyota and Spock are but they aren’t picking up. I’m sorry, I just need-”  His voice was getting a little further away, as if he had started to drop the phone away from his mouth, realizing his mistake. 

Len sat up and looked at the clock. 2:30. Not as bad as he thought, but no wear near a reasonable time. 

“Are you in trouble, kid?” He was already half out of bed, looking for his jeans. He may have only known James for a year, but that was long enough to consider him a close friend considering the amount of time they spent together. 

“I-” There was a pause. “Not yet.” 

“Where are you? I just need to put a shirt on.” 

——————————————————————————————-

There’s really no easy way to come into the world. No matter how easy one’s birth is, there is still a battered, confused and helpless new life in need of protection. James Kirk came into the world like any other child. 

His father went out in a crash trying to get there. Winona never really forgave George for that. She never quite stopped blaming James for it. She never forgave herself for either one. 

——————————————————————————————-

“You got no damned respect you little bastard!” The fist came flying at James. He ran, trying not to look back to see how far behind him Frank was. The man was screaming his rage down the dirt driveway after him. It was cold out, but it was better than another bruise across his ribs. 

It was better than hearing, again and again, about how his mother worked herself to the bone for him. How he was so ungrateful that he couldn’t even bother cleaning up after himself. 

Winona never yelled at him like Frank did. Frank never yelled at him in front of her. 

——————————————————————————————-

“You’re George Kirk’s kid, right?” The principle looked down her nose at James. “The police officer? He was a very good man.” She said it like that meant he couldn’t be a fuck up. Just because his father was a golden hero, he should be trying to be the same. 

“Yeah. I’ve heard.”

“You can’t keep skipping classes James. You’re extremely smart, but you’re barely passing. If you don’t get your act together your’e going to have to repeat your junior year.”

He didn’t repeat his junior year. Though that probably had something to do with the fact that he never went back. 

——————————————————————————————-

He wandered the streets looking for something to occupy his time. He wouldn’t get the job Frank had been trying to force him to get since he was 12. He wouldn’t give the asshole the satisfaction of having him to push around all day. 

His head was too loud for him to settle down on one thing. 

Someone showed him how to quiet it down. 

Eventually he stopped being surprised by how easy it was for him to go back for more. 

Eventually he stopped worrying about what it was going to do to him.

——————————————————————————————-

Winona tried to get her son back. She tried for months, for years. She left Frank. She apologized for never seeing the signs. She promised to be there for him. She promised to help him. She tried to see her son behind he hazy pinpoint eyes and scabbed arms. 

 ——————————————————————————————-

The day came when his mouther found him slumped against a wall in the bathroom. His lips were blue, his breathing was shallow. She called the 911 and then she called the only other person she could think of. 

Chris Pike had gone to school with George, he was James’ godfather. He wasn’t afraid to tell the kid he was fucking up. He wasn’t afraid to tell the kid that 21 was too young to die. 

He wasn’t afraid to dare James to do better.

——————————————————————————————-

When Chris finally got Kirk off the street and onto a set Winona got to see her son for the first time in four years. 

She had never been more relieved in her life. 

——————————————————————————————-

It wasn’t the job that kept James on the wagon. It was the people. Each person took it upon themselves to keep him occupied. To stave the boredom that would land a needle back in his arm.  

Scotty always had some insane drive for them to go on, a crazy shot he wanted to get that he knew Kirk would be willing to pose for. The man lived behind a camera, just like James lived in front of one.

Nyota made him focus on his work. She pushed and he pulled and they both came out with characters stronger than they would have had before. She made him work out his anger, his frustration, his hopelessness on a person that didn’t exist. She made him give his trouble to a character so that James Kirk could shine out the way he was supposed to. 

Spock talked him down. He used his cool voice and level head to remind James that he was a person, allowed to make mistakes. He would bluntly tell him he was being a fool. He would gently remind him that he didn’t have anything to make up for. 

All three of them convinced him to take Star Trek. They told him there was no one who could play the addict genius like him. Scotty told him no one else could pull off the physically painful part of it. Nyota told him it was a good way get some of the lasting pain and hate of himself out. Spock reminded him that he’d be pissed if anyone else did it and got it wrong. 

——————————————————————————————-

James was sitting on the couch staring at his hands when Len came in. There was a clock ticking obnoxiously somewhere and the only lights on were one in the living room and one in the kitchen. 

“James, what’s going on?” He stood in front of his friend, waiting for an explanation on why he was there at nearly three in the morning. Kirk was quiet and didn’t look up. He twisted his fingers together nervously, looking much younger than his 24 years. “Jim.” Len crouched down, putting his face in James’ line of sight. “What’s wrong?”

The actor hesitated for half a moment. “I need you to do me a favor.”

“Okay?” There was another long pause. 

“Down the hallway there’s the linen closet, yeah? I need you to look on the top shelf in the back. Third one down.” He rubbed his face roughly. “Grab that and throw it away. Please.” Len’s brow was furrowed, he opened his mouth. “No, please. Please do this first.” His voice cracked. 

Len nodded and stood up. He walked down the hallway and turned on the light. After a few minutes of digging through the cabinet he pulled out the third pillow down from a stack that was shoved into the back. He reached into the pillow case and pulled out a wrapped plastic bag.

 His heart nearly stopped. 

He all but ran back down the hallway and into the kitchen. The light above the sink was on, he didn’t bother looking for another one. Quickly ripping open the packet of soft brown powder he emptied it into the sink. He turned the faucet on and let it run as he broke the thin syringe over the edge of the trash can, carefully sweeping the broken glass into it. There was a quiet moment where he tried to steady his heart as the water washed the rest of the drug down the sink. He wasn’t sure if that was the right way to get rid of it, or even legal, but it was the first thing he could think of. 

From the living room he heard a soft, broken thank you. 

——————————————————————————————-

Things were tense between them in the following weeks. James didn’t want it to be, but he wasn’t sure how to approach what he had asked Len to do. He would crack a joke here or there, hoping to fall back into the easy banter they had built their relationship on. Len would give look concerned and like he was about to start on something. The actor would quickly avoid it. It didn’t last long. 

At their weekly coffee Len cornered him. 

“Thanks for staying.” James stirred his coffee absently. It wouldn’t do much to mix in the five spoonfuls of sugar that Len made fun of him for, but it was something to keep his hands busy. “You could have just taken off.”

He had caught the singer mid-sip this time. “You mean I should have just thrown away your heroin and then left? Is that how it usually works.”

Kirk flinched. 

“James,” He stopped and corrected himself. “Jim, I’m just glad you called me.” He sighed and leaned forward. “I care about you. You don’t have to thank me for coming to help you, or feel awkward because I know your secret. Which isn’t a secret by the way. Can barely get through an article about you without someone mentioning it.” 

“Aw, Bones, you read articles about me?”

“Shuddup, dickhead I’m baring my soul to you here.” Jim shut up but failed to hide his smile. “I wasn’t scared of the drugs Jim, I was scared of what you would have done if I hadn’t picked up the phone.”

——————————————————————————————-

“Hey, Scotty.” Leonard peered into the green room. “You know where- Scotty why are you in the green room.” The cinematographer froze with a sandwich half-way to his mouth.

“Weeeelll.” 

“Nevermind. You know where Jim is?” The Scot narrowed his eyes in confusion.

“Ji- _Oh_  James. You want to know where James is. Ya know, you’re the only one who calls him that.” 

——————————————————————————————-

Suddenly writing was just as easy as it had been after he held Joanna for the first time. 

——————————————————————————————-

They weren’t at the coffee shop this week. James had just wrapped up shooting for the week and was exhausted. Len was too tired to go out. He had been fighting with Sulu all week over the release of his newest song. Namely: Sulu thought it was one of his best yet, and there was no way in hell he was going to listen to Leonard talk about not releasing it. 

It came on the radio that Jim had playing in the background while he cooked up some pasta. He let out a whoop when they the host rattled off Len’s name. “And here is Leonard McCoy’s new single! It’s a little different than what we’ve heard from him before.” (The young DJ was someone well known, Jim couldn’t remember his name, Paulie Checkers or something. He asked Bones. “Pavel Checkov, Jim. Jesus. Paulie Checkers, where do you come up with this crap.” )

“But it’s staying very true to some of his earlier songs. I think you’ll enjoy it. With no further delay. Leonard McCoy’s new single,  _Gone Gone Gone._ ” 

Bones froze when he realized what was happening. He hadn’t been paying attention to the radio. Jim had stopped cutting up the tomatoes about fifteen seconds into the song. Neither one of them moved. 

Finally the guitar faded out and the room was silent. Leonard stumbled over something to say. “I told Sulu that it was a ridiculous song, no reason to-”

“Bones, was that.”James hesitated. “Was that song about me?” Len didn’t say anything.  Slowly he walked over to where Len sat on the couch. He stopped in front of him and placed a hand on either side of his face, making the singer look him in the eye. “Was it for me?” He couldn’t lie when the kid was looking at him like that. All that bright intensity that made people love him focused right on Len.

“Yeah.” He was trying to come up for an excuse for the exact wording of the song when he felt soft, dry lips pressed agains this own. The hands moved from his face to the back of his neck. Soon he had a lap full of James Kirk and his hands all over the actor’s back, chest, hips. 

Sulu was a genius and Leonard would never doubt his judgment again. 

——————————————————————————————-

“Jim,” Len groaned and James smirked as he dragged his blunt nails down the singer’s chest. He couldn’t get enough of the way the other man said his name.  

——————————————————————————————-

“So, I noticed that he has uh. Some interesting scars on his arms.” Len blinked at Janice Rand as she picked absently at the microphone that had been placed for their duet. 

“Yeah. It’s not exactly a secret.” He wasn’t sure why the woman was bring it up. They hadn’t even been talking about Jim. 

“It doesn’t bother you?” She eyed him carefully. He glares at her. These are the people that made Jim feel like he should wear long sleeves in public. Sparing their feelings of entitlement instead of being proud of what he survived. 

“Why would it?” When he goes home that night he’s extra careful to kiss each mark going up James’ arms. Jim swats at him in embarrassment. Len does it anyway. 

——————————————————————————————-

Jim isn’t sure how to tell Bones exactly what’s going through his head. 

I’m glad you came into my life. I’m happy I couldn’t keep a straight face during that scene so that I could meet you. I’m glad your ex-wife destroyed your heart so that you ended up here. I’m glad you became a drunk. I’m glad I overdosed. I’m glad my mom still cared about me enough to call someone. I’m glad you still cared enough about your daughter to not throw your life away. I’m glad that we get along so well, so easily, so perfectly. 

With his face pressed into Len’s neck and an arm wrapped protectively around his waist, he settles on “I’m glad I have you.” 

——————————————————————————————-

“I love you, kid.” Len mumbles sleepily into James’ chest. Jim isn’t sure how to respond. He strokes Len’s hair and kisses the top of his head. 

He’d find a way to say it soon. He would.

——————————————————————————————-

There was a tense moment while Chris Pike opened the envelope. “And the award for Outstanding Lead Actor in a Drama Series goes to-” He pulled out the thick card stock and glanced down at the name. A grin split his face. “James T. Kirk for Star Trek!” Roaring applause rolled through the audience. The large screen showed the actor’s half unbelieving smirk as he was pushed out of his chair by the man next to him. James tugged his suit jacket down and made the almost surreal walk to the stage. 37 steps and a firm hand shake from his mentor later, he was holding the heavy trophy. The applause died down and there was about two seconds of silence as he stared down at the statue in his hand. 

“Holy shit.” 

A chuckle from the audience. A few outright laughs from those who knew him personally. 

He finally looked up half laughing, unable to stop the ear to ear grin. His thick rimmed glasses couldn’t hide the electric blue eyes, made even more intense by the stage lighting. They were wide and a little wild, as if he couldn’t quite believe he was standing on this stage, holding something that most people never get to see in person. 

“This is uh,” He looked back down at the trophy and shook his head. “Wow. I guess I should say some thanks or something shouldn’t I?” The crowd laughed again. 

“First, thanks to Chris, for dragging my ass off the streets and onto a set. Thanks to Nyota, Spock and Scotty for not putting up with any of my bull. I’d like to say I don’t know where I’d be without them, but I do and it isn’t pretty.” Kirk’s past drug use was no secret and the tabloids loved to bring it up again and again, but he was a media darling for being the poster child for success after recovery. The big screen flashed the faces of Kirk’s director, his fellow actor and the series cinematographer. All close friends as well as coworkers.

“Thank you especially to Spock for being mad enough to take on a drama series about a group of people who are pretending to have their act together. Bit too close to reality T.V. for me.” The stoic director gave a half smile. “And to Nyota for being the most wonderfully challenging costar a person could ask for. You’ve pushed my character so far and I can’t thank you enough for giving me that to bounce off of.” The woman bit back at smile but couldn’t keep her eyes from crinkling.  

“And finally, thank you to Leonard McCoy.” The screen showed the man who had all but shoved Kirk up to the stage. His eyebrows went up in surprise. “Thank you for being my support, my bones, during this whole process. I know I’m not exactly the easiest person to deal with normally, let alone when I’m fussing over a character, especially with a character that hit so close to home. I couldn’t ask for a better person to share my life with. I love you.” James placed a hand over his heart. “Truly, madly and deeply.” 

Len had covered his mouth with his hand, it was unclear if he was trying not to smile or trying not to cry but the emotion was obviously over whelming. Kirk grinned again and waved as he exited the stage to another thunderous applause. The video showed Len lean over and say something to James, who just laughed and gave him a quick peck. The action was lost to the crowd as Christine Chapel came out to announce the next category. 

“Well it seems like Leonard  _is_  more than a guitar and a voice. Next to announce Outstanding Actor in a Comedy Series we have the talented director of Enterprise, Carol Marcus.” 

No one heard what Len had said to James as he sat back down. 

“Dammit Jim, could have given a man a little warning.” No one knew it was the first time James T. Kirk told Leonard McCoy exactly how he felt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song is Gone, Gone, Gone by Phillip Phillips!


	2. Once Again

It was a familiar scene. There were sitting toward the front of the of the Staples Center in the area they put all the nominees and their guests. The stage in front of them playing out the usual suspense of who was going to be sheepishly ambling up to the stage to accept the award.  Leonard had been here a few times before. Admittedly he had been on the stage singing his heart out, not shifting in his seat nervously as they called out the nominees. 

He jumped slightly at the hand that clamped down over his forearm. 

“Bones, I swear if you don’t stop flinching I’m going to give you something to flinch about.” The threat didn’t hold much heat to it and lost it’s power when the hand moved to his and laced their fingers together. “It’s the perfect song.” 

Len squeezed the hand back hard. He usually didn’t get nervous like this. Hell, he’d played in front of 20,000 people. You think he could manage to sit in a seat when the focus wasn’t even on him. 

“And the award for Best Song of the Year goes to-” The curly head of Pavel Checkov bounced as he unfolded the envelope. “Leonard McCoy for  _Home!_ ” 

The singer was frozen to his seat. It was a sharp poke to his ribs from James that finally got him moving.

“They called your name idiot.” He smirked into Len’s ear. He kissed him softly before shoving him from his seat. 

Len stiffly made his way up stage, oblivious to the applause around him. When he took the small gramophone from Checkov he muttered a thank you and then stood in front of the mic for a solid five seconds without saying anything. 

Finally his brain caught up to the rest of the event. He finally grinned. 

“Well, I guess it’s pretty obvious that I didn’t actually expect this.” He hefted the award in his hand. “Yikes.” 

He hadn’t realized how relaxing it is to hear the audience laugh when you’re on the stage. He was grateful to every one of them who forced one through. 

“I’d like to thank my manager Sulu, for making me clean up my act before letting me get my music out there. Also for actually getting my music out there. You’re a miracle working, man.” The video screen showed the young manager grinning in the audience. “Thank you to my beautiful Joanna, who was the inspiration for so many songs that eventually got me to this one. Daddy loves you Baby Girl.” There was clapping and more than a few “aws.” 

He looked down at the trophy again. The corner of his mouth tugged up in a half smile. 

“And I guess I should thank James Kirk. For being making me spend time with him.” He looked back out into the crowd. James had an easy smile on his face. “We’ve both had a hard time getting here, up on a stage with an award we aren’t sure we deserve in our hand. But you helped me get up here as much as you said I helped you. So thank you, you idiot, for insulting me on the set for a music video and then chasing me down on the street. It’s one of the best things that has ever happened to me.” The applause started up again as he started his way off stage. He sat down and pointedly ignored looking at James, who was giving him a stupidly sappy look. 

“Where you even going to put that?” It was a joke they had started when Jim got his Emmy. Len had claimed there was no room in the house for it and he’d have to put it in a closet some where. 

“I think I’ll just start sleeping with it. It can have your place on the bed.” Jim wrinkled his nose at him, pushing the heavy framed glasses up his face. 

“Sex with it would be awful.” Len snorted. 

“I’ll put it in Joanna’s room so I can embarrass her when her friends ask about it. Start singing to her.” A quiet chuckle came from Jim. He linked his fingers with Len’s again and squeezed them. 

“I love you, Bones.”

“Love you too, Jim.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song is Home also by Phillip Phillips.


End file.
